Ink and Flowers
by Lunaresce
Summary: She was a blind artist who painted bestselling artworks with the utmost perfection. He was a rich and conceited businessman who thought that he could get anything with wealth…that is, until he met her. [SxS] AU


**Ink and Flowers**

_By Lunaresce_

**Summary: **She was a blind artist who painted best-selling artworks with the utmost perfection. He was a rich and conceited businessman who thought he could get anything with wealth... that is, until he met her. SxS

**Disclaimer: **I don't own CCS.

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**Prelude  
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I sat with him inside the coffee shop where everything started. I held onto my cup, sipping cappuccino slowly as I watched him, his eyes for the first time unable to meet mine. How funny. I wondered how I had fallen so deeply in love with such a man. But that love was gone, long gone, and so was the hatred that had arisen after the heartbreak. Had it even been love?

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes staring out the window, watching the cars drive past, splashing rain onto the panes as they did. His tie hung loosely from his collar, and I stopped myself before I could reach out and fix it.

Fifteen minutes had passed, but neither of us said a word.

Finally, he looked and me and sighed, breaking the silence. "Tomoyo." He said, raking his fingers through his hair. "We have to talk."

There it was. The moment had come. "I know." My voice came out softer than anticipated.

"I'm sorry about what happened." _Between us? _His dark eyes met mine. The same sensual gaze would have sent shivers down my spine, sent my heart beating erratically - had I been then same silly girl a year ago who harboured ridiculous fantasies of love. But things had changed. I held his stare firmly and indifferently as possible. Maybe deep down inside, I knew there was never an 'us', but there was always that sliver of hope that I had clung to. But I knew he never cared about _us_, it was always _them. We _never existed.

"You're not sorry," I said, accusingly. "You orchestrated everything. It's all your fault."

Something flashed in his eyes. Regret? Disgrace? No, I knew him far too well. Or maybe I never knew that part of him he never thought was worthy to impart to anyone. Those emotions never existed in him. Then, another sigh. "No, you're right. I'm not. It was just so... unexpected. But I think you deserve to know the truth."

The truth? I knew the truth. Unless...

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to me. I opened it, the ink had been smudged by the rain, but I started reading nonetheless. This time, I felt his eyes on me as I absorbed the information. Comprehension dawned on me as I discovered the revelations behind everything. There had been more secrets.

"I'll take my leave," I vaguely heard him say, but was too overcome by the whirl of emotions. A tinkling of the chimes barely registered in the background.

I no longer knew what had blurred into truth and lies.

But this... this was the plain truth. Finally, I had the missing piece to everything and how it started.

This was the _last letter. _The end response. The puzzle was being solved.

And I remembered those moments that left such a vivid imprint in my mind.

My hands started to shake. The love story between Kinomoto Sakura and Li Syaoran had been unexpected. How the unlikely romance between a girl who cherished every tiny thing in the world and a man who gave a damn about nothing but himself had blossomed.

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Pale, thin fingers clasped onto a long paintbrush, held upright by the second and third fingers. They moved with grace on the canvas - left, right, diagonal, down, left… painting crimson red strokes onto the paper with deadly accuracy. That was- until the paint ran out, leaving red splotches onto the artwork that would have otherwise been perfect.

"Sakura-chan, the paint has run out," I told the artist, standing behind her. She never ceased to amaze me. She had so much talent, perhaps even more than me since I was a designer. But for every painting she painted, there was always a meaning behind it.

My dear cousin, Kinomoto Sakura paused and frowned as she dipped her paintbrush into a nearby jar of water, thoroughly cleansing the brush of the paint and spun around to face me.

"I know, I was just thinking. Yellow please," Sakura held out her brush and multicoloured palette. I bent over to examine the paints; my eyes skimming at the colours and after five seconds, I guided Sakura's brush to the paint. The young artist dabbed on the paint before facing the canvas again to add the finishing touches to the artwork and sat up proudly once she was done. "I'm done. So what do you think?"

I smiled. "Do I have to tell you every time? I think it's magnificent. You get better and better with each painting."

Sakura's lips curved slightly upwards into a small, but noticeable smile. She had waves of auburn hair that tumbled two or three inches below her shoulders and smooth, flawless skin that was slightly tanned. Many had called her pretty, but they always found something _amiss _with her that prevented her from being what they called "truly beautiful". It was her eyes, they said, were so startlingly dull and lifeless. But they didn't know the truth. No one knew, save for her father, brother and me. They didn't know she was blind.

It happened when we were ten. I wasn't there, but I could recall the details I was told. According to her older brother Touya, when walking down the basement, she had lost footing, tumbling down the stairs. Her head hit the floor, permanently damaging the nerves associated with her vision and after that she could not see anymore.

I could always feel a pang in my heart every time she asked me do to something for her. If only she had not lost her eyes she could have become something even better than she was now. She had lost sight. I loved Sakura with all my heart and hated this blindness. Oh, how I wish it would stop.

But the thing was my dear cousin was talented. Not only with art, but she had great instincts and reflexes. How she could visually conceptualise an image in her mind and paint it out was beyond me, and had astounded doctors. It was unbelievable. Most didn't even know she was blind unless they peered into her eyes cautiously. They say your eyes are the windows to your soul, but how could I believe that? Her eyes were so lifeless, yet she is so kind and caring.

Such a burden to carry was so unfair for her; she suffered what she did not deserve. Life was so cruel to her, yet she overcame the odds. After the accident, many had not expected her to recover. They thought she would be a helpless doll who could do nothing without her sight; but she proved them wrong and made me proud. Sakura had learnt to rely on her other senses and recuperated greatly, her other senses substituted for her sight. But there was one thing she could never see - that was colours. She had told me numerous times that her most dear wish was to see her artworks. She wished that through the sale of some of them, she could raise enough money to fund for her eye surgery. Yet over the past few years, she could never accumulate even half the money that was required and even though I tried to support her with my own fortune numerous times, she would always stubbornly refuse. It was a wish that could never be fulfilled.

That's what I thought at least.

Until _he _came and turned her life around.

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**A/N: So this is the new prologue. I didn't like the pace of the story, and felt that some bits were really awkward, in particular the exchange between Tomoyo and Syaoran, so I decided to opt for a change. I'm choosing to keep some things the same though, so it's not exactly a total rewrite. Anyhow, please leave a review and let me know what you think. Expect the first chapter soon!**


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